


Countertop muffin

by Green_Sphynx



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Ageplay, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Don't forget the muffins, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Maia the maiasaur, Masturbation, Muffins, Rimming, Spanking, and the most important character, little play, sue me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 02:32:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15854421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Sphynx/pseuds/Green_Sphynx
Summary: Little!Barry is too impatient to wait for his Daddy!Oliver to finish baking





	Countertop muffin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blueelvewithwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueelvewithwings/gifts).



> This had been on my to-do list as simple kitchen sex, but this idea just came over me one night. I wouldn't have gone through with writing ageplay, considering I never really touched that deeply on this kink, but I was... encouraged to do so anyway.  
> Therefore I just have to dedicate this fic to me wifey, a Mistress of Fluff.
> 
> (I was in a hurry to post because it's a birthday present, so no proofreading has been done. That willl hopefully still happen at some point tho)

There was nothing like a day off to just relax at home with your boyfriend. They didn't get a day off very often, and especially not both at the same time, so Barry had made sure to run over to Oliver's the evening prior so they would really, truly have the whole day for themselves.

The whole day, minus the time Barry spent sleeping in, of course. Because he never really did wake up in time for anything unless forced.

When he did wake up, it was the the sounds of Oliver working in the kitchen, as well as the sweet smell of warm vanilla.

Barry stretched languidly on the bed, warm sheets pooling around him, breathing the smell of Oliver from the bed mixed with vanilla before letting the air go from his lungs in a long, deep sigh. He felt lazy, comfy, and little. Must be the smell of vanilla, making him feel little.

He sat up on his knees on the bed and grabbed at the plush dinosaur on top of the headboard. He clutched it close to his chest while stripping off his boxers and puttering over to the closet to find a comfy onesie he must have stashed in there somewhere. He found his favourite one on top, freshly washed and fluffed up by Oliver after Barry used it the last time, so he put Maia down on the hamper to wrangle himself into the onesie somewhat clumsily. He always ended up poking a leg through the butt flap when he had to put it on himself, but Oliver was busy in the kitchen so he shouldn't disturb him to help Barry dress.

Once he managed to close all the tiny buttons on the front, he lifted the big fluffy hood over his head and grabbed Maia again, shuffling back to the bed to curl up on top of the warm sheets and wait for his daddy to come get him. Curled around his dinosaur, he was quick to drift back into a light sleep. The scent of vanilla remained to keep him feeling docile and happy, even while Oliver's scent was slowly fleeting from the bed.

Slowly, but too fast.

Barry rolled over to find his daddy, only to find the rest of the bed cold. He patted around with his eyes half closed before realising his daddy hadn't come for him, and there were still sounds from the kitchen - a whisk rhythmically ticking against a bowl, a cupboard door closing with a soft but distinct click. His daddy hadn't come to check on him at all, or he wouldn't have let him sleep this late.

Barry sat up with a pout, stretched and then clutched Maia close to his chest once more while scooting off the bed and shuffling out of the bedroom to find Oliver in the kitchen.

Oliver glanced at him when he entered the kitchen, and he smiled at Barry's pout.

"Did my baby boy finally wake up, then?"

"I got lonely," Barry sulked, scuffing his bare heels against the tiles. "Daddy didn't come for me."

"Daddy was busy baking you some treats, Barry." Oliver tugged Barry close by the sides of the onesie's hood to press a sweet kiss to his lips. "And I'm not done here yet. Will you wait here with me until I finish baking?"

Barry nodded and spread his arms out, Maia dangling from one hand as he wordlessly asked to be picked up. Oliver did so without hesitation, lifting Barry with a firm grip on his ribs as if he truly weighed as little as a little boy, setting him down on a free part of the kitchen counter where he couldn't get in Oliver's way.

Barry always had the bad habit of getting in the way, whether he was feeling Little or not. He would just loiter all over the place impatiently, unable to stay put for more than a few seconds if he didn't have Oliver's attention on him. Setting him on the kitchen counter had become a habit to force him to stay put, as he was sitting up too high to get off without actually having to jump down. Oliver could keep a close eye on him here and leaving his spot would be punished without fail, no matter how antsy Barry had gotten waiting.

But he was a good boy and he could sit here for a bit without getting bored. He could cuddle Maia close and fidget with the fraying edges of his sleeves, and he could watch Oliver as he put ingredients together for cake and rolled out dough for cookies. Oliver really was preparing him a feast of sweets and Barry was not about to look a gift cake in the mouth.

Or he didn't plan to, but Oliver was taking _really long_.

The smile on Barry's face slowly fell as the time ticked by, losing his patience by the minute. He stuck his thumb in his mouth unthinking, sucking and worrying his teeth over the nail to keep himself occupied.

"Don't do that, Barry."

_Oliver didn't even look at him to chastise him._

Barry pouted hard, using both hands to clutch Maia to his chest. That lasted for a whole two seconds before he started to suck on the hem of his sleeve instead, tongue playing with the threads coming loose from the soft cotton.

"Barry." This time he did get a pointed look of disapproval, so Barry whined and kicked his feet in protest. Oliver stepped over just to take a firm hold of his wrist, pulling it away from his mouth. "Don't make me repeat myself, baby boy. You can sit here and wait like a good boy for a little longer, I know you can."

Barry whined but he did put his hands down on his lap with Maia, away from his mouth.

Oliver gave him a curt nod of approval and headed straight back to his baking, to Barry's despair.

He was just bored, waiting like this. He couldn't play with just Maia, he didn't have anything to read or watch, he didn't even get any of those cookies to nibble on to pass the time! All he had was watching Oliver being really rather boring while preparing food.

Well… he could watch Oliver a little better, of course… Oliver was wearing a pretty thin button-up so every movement he made gave Barry a glimpse of his muscles shifting underneath. And Oliver had some _good_ muscles… Barry could vividly remember the feeling of Oliver's skin taut over those very muscles, the movement and the sheer strength in them. Just like how he lifted Barry up so easily just now. Of course Barry loved Oliver for a lot more than just his physique, but _god_ if those guns bulging in his sleeves weren't fucking _hot_.

And that really left him one thing he could definitely do, sitting here on the counter top with nothing but the onesie he was wearing and his stuffed dinosaur on his lap.

Barry carefully settled Maia next to him on the counter, making the plush stand on his feet (and tail, because he couldn't balance the toy just on his two feet) and face Oliver.

"Keep watch for me," he stage-whispered, knowing that what he was about to do was a very naughty thing and that his daddy would not approve. But his daddy left him here to his own devices so honestly, what was he expecting?

If Oliver had heard him tell Maia to keep watch (and he probably did, knowing Oliver) he didn't acknowledge it, simply carrying on like he had. Barry figured that meant he was still safe, so he quietly struggled the lowest button of his onesie open. Then it was easy to fish out his still soft cock, because he had taken off his underwear before.

He gave Oliver a furtive glance to make sure he wasn't watching before starting to play with himself. He only needed his fingertips for now, rubbing the skin back and forth and around in little spiralling movements, until he had grown hard enough to properly grasp himself. The hood of his onesie was slipping down over his face with his attention on his crotch, tongue sticking out between his lips while he curled and uncurled his fingers around his hardening length to tease himself.

He wouldn't normally tease himself, but he was trying to span the time now. He had boredom to battle, not arousal. So he could stroke himself slowly and it was fine, he wasn't in a hurry yet. He wanted to push his free hand into his onesie to grab his own balls but that didn't fit through the single open button, so he had to make do grasping his balls through the cotton of the garment.

And it was really Oliver's fault for being so sexy while doing boring stuff like baking in the first place. If he hadn't done that, Barry wouldn't have gotten the idea to distract himself like this. But knowing Oliver was baking sweets _for him_ and then the sight of him in that thin shirt - Barry knew _exactly_ what Oliver could achieve with those muscles. He barely had to close his eyes to bring the view of Oliver climbing that salmon ladder to his mind's eye, sweat making his skin glisten while muscles bulged and flexed for Barry to enjoy. Oliver was so strong he could lift Barry without breaking a sweat and carry him around the house, or fuck him against a wall - no, Oliver could fuck him standing up even without a wall, he was _that_ strong.

The thought of that - Oliver with his arms hooked under Barry's knees, lifting Barry up and down his cock without any support from anything else - was enough to make Barry whimper softly, and he had to bite his lip to muffle any sounds. He was being naughty and it wouldn't do to attract his daddy's attention.

Barry belatedly realised that he hadn't looked up to see if he was still going undetected for some time now. Slowly stroking his cock with one hand, he lifted the other to raise the fluffy hood enough for him to peek at Oliver.

Oliver promptly turned to give him a heated look over his shoulder.

"Don't think I haven't seen you, naughty boy. If I didn't have dough all over my hands you'd be getting the spanking of a lifetime right now."

Barry whimpered in shock, his hand tightening around his cock and stroking a little faster. He probably should stop and not try to make his daddy even angrier, but _fuck_ that was hot. He let the hood of his onesie slip again so he could grab his cock with both hands, fumbling to stroke himself fast and hard. He was _definitely_ just aroused now, no longer bored, and in need of an orgasm - probably before Oliver would get his hands clean, because once his daddy got his hands on him there was not going to be an orgasm any time soon.

_Sadly for Barry, Oliver was finishing up with his baking sooner than Barry expected._

A tray of muffins was all but thrown into the oven and Barry whined in distress when Oliver started to rub his hands clean under the tap. He was not going to make it and he was in _so much trouble_ now.

"You didn't even stop, you bad boy."

Barry cried out helplessly when suddenly his daddy was in front of him, lifting him up from the counter. He was flipped over and put down on his stomach on the counter, his legs kicking free and desperately. He could reach the floor with his toes, but he couldn't get any leverage like this. And he already knew he was going to regret that big time.

Oliver didn't waste any time, stepping aside for a good angle and immediately starting to rain a spanking down on Barry's bottom. Barry thrashed and cried out in protest, even if it didn't hurt much _yet_. His fingers scrabbled over the counter top for something to hold on to, but there was nothing but cold, smooth granite within his reach. There was nothing he could do but curl his fingers to scratch over the hard surface while Oliver smacked and smacked and _smacked._

He was not granted reprieve before the second stage, either. When Oliver decided he'd done enough warm-up, he simply unbuttoned the flap over Barry's butt and dropped it to bare his slightly pinked skin to the cool air. Barry pressed his forehead against the counter top hard with a whimper of anticipation, expecting Oliver to at least pet his skin a little to feel how hot and sore it was.

But Oliver didn't.

Oliver simply stepped to the side once more and started on the next barrage, not giving Barry any pause between each smack of his spanking. Soon enough Barry was thrashing all over again, but this time not just in petulant protest. This time he was crying for it to _stop_.

It didn't hurt _that_ badly yet, and they would always go much further than this, but Barry didn't want to be punished anymore.

"Daddy, please, I'm sorry!" He kicked his legs helplessly, reaching behind him to cover his sore butt with his hands.

"You didn't look sorry when I reprimanded you earlier," Oliver told him, voice stern and low _and hot_. Barry's wrists were grabbed and pinned together on the small of his back so he could not hinder the spanking anymore.

"I'm really sorry!"

Oliver paid it no heed, and Barry couldn't kick his legs high enough to interrupt the spanking, nor could he reach Oliver with his legs to push him away or _anything_. He was helpless on the counter and his arse was feeling really hot now.

"Daddyyy- please please I didn't mean to, I'm sorryyy" he cried. It took precious little effort to turn on the waterworks with Oliver spanking him hard and fast, and that was his only remaining card to play.

"You should've thought of that earlier, Barry."

_Tears failed as well_ .

But now he couldn't stop the tears anymore. Oliver was being positively savage (well, for their soft standards, anyway) and every smack landed so quickly on top of the other that it truly burned and stung now. Barry started to struggle to get his hands free and protect his arse again but Oliver's grip on his wrists tightened painfully, drawing a louder cry from Barry.

And then, as sudden as it had started, it was over.

Barry was gasping, hiccupping in pain, and his hands flew down to cover the burning skin as soon as his wrists were released. He became acutely aware of how sore he was starting to feel, ribs and chin and hipbones pressing against stony cold granite while punishment had been administered.

Oliver rubbed his lower back for a moment. "Okay, stay down now. I'll be right back."

Barry nodded, sniffling. Oliver left the kitchen to grab the lotion he'd use for Barry's comfort after doing anything rough with him, and Barry craned his neck to find Maia next to him on the counter. He grabbed the dinosaur to pull it close under one arm, rubbing at his tearing eyes with his other hand.

Oliver didn't take long to return, already popping the cap of the lotion before even reaching Barry. He put it directly on Barry's heated skin, allowing it to cool as well as care. Barry whimpered, his hips jumping slightly at the sudden cold touch, but he was definitely not complaining. There was nothing like his daddy spreading lotion on his sore butt after a spanking.

When the bottle of lotion was closed and put aside, Oliver picked Barry up again to turn him back around, allowing him to sit on the counter once more. He didn't close the flap of his onesie first, and Barry couldn't help the deep sigh of relief and the little wiggle at the blissful cool of the granite.

"Thank you, Daddy," he muttered, voice watery from the tears.

"You were a good boy for your punishment," Oliver assured him gently, dabbing a tissue where Barry's nose had gotten snotty from crying. "Punishment is over."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Barry swore earnestly.

"And yet my little boy is still hard, even after getting a good spanking?" Oliver was smiling, looking amused rather than angry while carefully palming the tent in Barry's onesie. The lowest button was still open, but his cock was no longer sticking out after having been manhandled and flipped twice.

Barry blushed bright red, all but crushing Maia to his chest while refusing to meet Oliver's eyes. "It's because Daddy did the _voice_ when he was spanking me."

"Did I now?" Oliver was all but cooing in amusement, pulling Barry down by the back of his neck to press a kiss to his lips. "Well, I suppose that means it's Daddy's fault that his baby boy is all hot and bothered, hm?"

Barry nodded quickly, pushing his lower lip out in a big pout for good measure. His eyes were still burning and feeling puffy after the crying, and he was still sniffling, but he was more than ready to convince his daddy for some sexy times now. He wasn't feeling any less needy since playing with himself earlier, even if he had been punished in between.

"Daddy, please?" He whimpered softly, batting wet eyelashes as Oliver.

"Please, what, baby boy?"

"Please, Daddy… please touch my p-p-" Barry stuttered, face growing bright red for as far as it hadn't been all splotchy and dark yet. As much as he adored being Oliver's Little and getting to have sex with him during, there was always that line where he got too embarrassed to pick his words. He didn't want to say a dirty word, but using a _less_ dirty word made him feel like he was trying to turn Oliver into some sort of pedo, even if Oliver disagreed.

He settled in the middle. "Please touch my penis, Daddy?"

Oliver smiled at him so proudly for saying it that Barry had to hide his face behind Maia. "Of course I will. You only have to ask."

And that had been Barry's mistake before, and he knew it. He should have asked Oliver if it was okay - which it wouldn't have been, because no way Oliver would've let him masturbate on the counter top while he was baking, but at least he would've been a good boy for asking.

Oliver undid a few more of the onesie's buttons so he could reach on easily, grasping Barry's barely waned erection in a big, strong hand. Just the heat of Oliver's hand and the lightest squeeze already made Barry writhe, whimpering out a moan for his daddy. He refused to look up at Oliver's face, even if he knew Oliver was studying _his_ now, keeping his eyes trained on the hand slowly pumping his cock.

"Daddy, faster."

"Say what now, Barry?"

"Daddy, please faster?"

"Better." Oliver sounded very pleased and Barry knew he'd find a proud grin if he would dare to look up, but he didn't dare so he could only watch Oliver's hand squeeze a little tighter and move a little faster. Not much faster, just enough so he could claim he'd done what Barry asked, but not enough to actually satisfy.

"Daddy-y" Barry whined, rocking his hips as much as he could without any leverage with his legs.

"Aren't you impatient as always," Oliver chuckled - as if that was a surprise, _really_ \- but rather than giving in he released Barry completely. Barry whined even louder, but his protest broke off when Oliver lifted him off the counter. 

Barry quickly kicked his feet, both in protest and in his hurry to get his feet on the ground, but Oliver's balance was impeccable even while holding his tall baby boy. He lifted Barry up against his chest rather than putting him down, probably knowing Barry would be running off the moment his feet touched the floor, and carried him over to the dinner table. The table was much lower than the counter and if he would put Barry down like before, Barry would certainly get his feet down and start a fuss.

So he didn't.

Barry kicked his legs in protest while he was laid down on his back on the table, Oliver immediately pushing his legs up in the air. The hard table made Barry wiggle and whimper but even that was accounted for quickly when Oliver snatched the pillows from two chairs to slide them under Barry's back, so his spin wouldn't be digging into the hard surface.

"Daddy," Barry complained again, and he abandoned Maia to grasp at the partially opened fabric of his onesie, trying to make Oliver get back to it.

Oliver had his own plans, like usual.

Barry found himself bend almost in half, Oliver's grip strong on the bottom of his thighs, and next he knew Oliver was kneeling next to the table and licking up the crack of Barry's arse.

Barry arched in surprise, crying out while a shiver of pleasure run all the way up his spine to make his shoulders shake for a moment.

"Oh-oh god, Daddy, that's so good, please more Daddy-"

Oliver made a sound of agreement, pressing closer again and lapping the flat of his tongue over Barry's hole. Barry writhed and quivered, legs kicking in the air as Oliver licked around and pressed the tip of his tongue against the furled skin.

_It was too much to handle_ .

Barry all but stuffed his fist into his mouth muffle his cries, the other hand coming down to try grasp Oliver's hair. It wasn't easy to get a hold on and when he did, his hand was flicked away dismissively. The pause Oliver made in rimming him to do that was enough incentive for Barry to not try again.

"Let me hear you, my little boy." Oliver only licked up to Barry's balls so he could speak without being muffled, and he immediately sank down again to keep teasing with his tongue. He massaged the tip in steady circles around the ring of muscle but aside from regular moments of light pressure, he didn't actually push his tongue in. He just licked and kissed and made Barry cry and moan for more, a _relentless daddy_.

"Daddy, plea-ease," Barry cried, now openly sobbing for it, and finally Oliver gave him what he wanted - or one of the many things he wanted but kept being denied. Barry's thighs quivered under Oliver's hands as his tongue pressed inside, the slick heat filling Barry's senses. He felt spread open wide and exposed only now, and it made him whimper in mild distress.

His daddy hummed against his hole to soothe his whimpering, and Barry's whole body jerked at the sensation.

"Daddy," he breathed, legs spasming against Oliver's hold on them, "Daddy fuck me, Daddy please-"

"You want my cock, baby boy?" Oliver's voice was a purr of vibrations against Barry's hole, and he twitched harder. "Don't you want my fingers first?"

"No Daddy," Barry whined, insisting. "I want Daddy to fuck me, please!"

Oliver rose to his feet, leaning over and folding Barry's thighs completely against his torso with his weight. Their lips met, Barry craning his neck to get as close as possible, get as much as he could get from his daddy's lips.

"Are you sure? You won't be stretched much anymore from last night."

"Daddy-y," Barry whined again, this time more demand than complaint. " _Please,_ Daddy, why are you teasing me? I was a good boy, wasn't I? Please just _give me your cock_ , Daddy!"

Oliver laughed, sending all new sorts of shivers through Barry with the sound. His laughter was so open and unguarded, his voice so husky with arousal, it was hard not to think this was a dream to get Oliver like this. Barry felt privileged - but it was _his_ daddy, so that _should_ make the difference.

And his daddy gave in to his demands too, even if Barry was getting a bit rude now. Barry was a lucky little boy like that sometimes.

Oliver had had the lube ready in his back pocket - Barry didn't know if he'd had it there all morning or just put it there when he went to get the lotion earlier, but he was grateful regardless - and he let a cold line of the slickness run down from Barry's balls into his cleft. He worked some of the lube into Barry's hole with his thumb, making Barry writhe and moan with need, but didn't stop for the extensive fingering he would usually do to prepare Barry for him.

"Hold your legs up like a good boy, now. Don't kick your Daddy."

Barry grasped his own thighs with a whimper, fingers curling into the soft cotton of his onesie when he realised he had, in fact, been kicking Oliver in his desire to get fucked. Not on purpose though, and Oliver had to know that because he would not have let that go unpunished otherwise. The upside was that like this, Barry could spread his thighs wider for Oliver, lay back more invitingly, _and_ he had something to hold on to rather than seeking purchase on the table all the time.

Oliver zipped his pants open and pulled out the prize Barry had been aiming for, quickly spreading a handful of lube over the length. It seemed a bit much, but Barry _did_ beg to be taken unprepared, so it was probably necessary.

_He didn't know the half of it._

Barry grunted, eyes squeezing shut at the first press of Oliver's cock into his hole. It was a whole lot more pressure like this, and while he always enjoyed that it felt like a bit too much now.

Oliver noticed his distress of course, and paused with only the head inside. "Are you alright, my boy? Does it hurt too much?"

"No, Daddy," Barry whimpered quickly. "Please don't stop?"

"Are you _really_ sure?"

"Yes Daddy, please!"

Oliver sucked in an audible breath, and then Barry felt him pressing on, pushing deeper into him. He felt tight and full and like he was being split apart on his daddy's cock, and the pain was _exquisite_. Barry never expected to enjoy pain like this so much.

But it _was_ his Daddy, and he _did_ ask for it. He would love any wish his daddy granted him.

"Oh god, Barry… are you still alright?"

Barry nodded quickly, even if he could only let out a muffled whimper. Oliver paused to give him some time, and Barry _loved him for it_ , and right as he wanted to start begging for his daddy to move, Oliver started to draw back.

Barry's eyes flew open in distress, fearing that Oliver was going to pull out and stop, but when he saw the look on Oliver's face he knew h had nothing to fear. Oliver's pupils were blown wide, his bottom lip chewed red from holding himself back, his cheeks flustered with arousal. _His daddy was the most gorgeous man and Barry was the one who scored him_.

"Fuck me, Daddy!"

Barry all but _squealed_ when Oliver slammed back in, his grip on his thighs slipping so he had to pull his legs back up by the fabric of his onesie. The legs of it crawled up his ankles but he was too preoccupied with Oliver fucking into him with long, sharp thrusts to do anything about it. He cried and begged for his daddy and Oliver gave him more for every sound he made.

" _Barry_ -"

Oliver's tone was commanding but Barry had no idea what his daddy wanted from him. He could only thrash and moan and try to keep his legs up. Sweat beaded on Oliver's forehead and Barry wanted to lean up and lick it off, but he _couldn't_. There was absolutely nothing he could do, pinned down on the dinner table with his daddy pounding into him, and he was loving every second of it.

"Daddy, I- wanna- come-" Barry begged, panting between words, trying to formulate his _need_ but almost dizzy from being fed exactly what he'd been asking for.

"Then do it," Oliver growled, his grip on Barry's hips tightening hard enough to leave bruises in the pale white skin. "You can do it, baby boy. Come for me."

"I-I can-t," Barry wailed, trying to buck his hips up against Oliver but having absolutely no leverage to do so. He felt like he was speared arse to mouth on each thrust, filled so fully he could taste it, and he was reaching the point where he just let his head drop back on the table as his eyes rolled up. " _Please Ollie-_ "

And then Oliver pushed his hand up in Barry's onesie, grasping his straining hard length in a vice grip and stroking him once, twice, and Barry was screaming his release. His body was thrashing, his grip on his legs lost completely and he almost kicked Oliver in the face, but he couldn't _see_ and he was riding out this orgasm for as long as Oliver was stroking him.

When his muscles finally relaxed, Oliver pulled his hand out from the tangle of fabric, before pulling his cock from Barry's hole so he could stroke himself to completion. Barry watched with lidded eyes as Oliver panted sharply, both Barry's legs held up clumsily with his free hand so he could spill his load over Barry's exposed and bright pink arse.

Barry's breathing had calmed by the time Oliver stopped shivering, even while he delighted in the feeling of Oliver's hot seed cooling on his skin, the wet tip of his cock drawing lazy lines over his sore butt.

"Daddy?" Barry sounded a lot more innocent again now, but mostly his question was an _'are you alright?'_ that he was afraid to ask out loud. Oliver was in control, Oliver was his daddy, and he didn't want to undermine that but he still worried.

"I'm fine," Oliver let out a pleased sigh, leaning forward so he could come down to press a kiss to Barry's lips. "Hold your legs up a little longer, baby boy. You're all messy down here, so I better wipe that cute little butt before I button up your clothes.

Whereas Barry had been fairly sure he was red in the face from the sex, the comment still made his cheeks flame up in embarrassment.

"I didn't do it, Daddy," he quickly called out, even while holding his legs up once more as instructed. Oliver was chuckling while he went looking for some tissues, ignoring Barry's outraged calls. "I didn't make my butt dirty, Daddy! I'm not a poopy boy! It was you, Daddy it was you!"

"It was me," Oliver agreed, laughing warmly. He returned with the tissues and wiped Barry like he was actually cleaning a baby. Barry kicked his legs in protest until Oliver stopped and buttoned his onesie up in the back. Then he pushed Barry's legs down and reached inside to wipe away as much of Barry's seed as he could, whatever wasn't sticking to the soft cotton now, before buttoning up the front as well.

"Are you good like this? Or does my baby boy want clean clothes?"

Barry stretched his arms for Oliver to pull him up and hug him close, pouting slightly while he thought about it. His sweat was cooling down even in the onesie now, and there was a sticky patch on his stomach… but this was still his most comfy one, all soft and wide - and the only dinosaur one he had.

"No," he decided, shaking his head firmly. "No clean."

Oliver kissed his forehead and then lifted Barry against himself, so Barry quickly wrapped his legs around Oliver's waist. "Let's go cuddle on the couch, alright?" Oliver glanced over his shoulder, before giving a soft laugh and correcting himself. "Or I put you on the couch and start you a nice movie first, because the timer of the muffins will go off in a few minutes."

Barry perked up, eyes wide as he peered over Oliver;s shoulder at the oven.

"Can I have one? Please, pretty please, Daddy, can I have a warm muffin?"

"Once they're ready," Oliver promised, kissing Barry lightly and then turning, carrying him out of the kitchen to the couch.

"Daddy's the best," Barry preened, cuddling close to Oliver's chest and clinging tight even when Oliver tried to put him down.

_He forgot Maia on the dinner table_ .

Well, that just meant he could come running after his Daddy as soon as Oliver left the room. Which he wasn't allowed to do, but well, what's a Little to do when he forgets his plushy, right?


End file.
